


The Smile of Your Nightmares

by eyeslikeonyx



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Criminal Profilers, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Off-Screen Murder, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Horror, Scars, Serial Killers, description of corpses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikeonyx/pseuds/eyeslikeonyx
Summary: Auston Matthews observes the living room from where he stands, looking for any signs, any clues that can give him the answers he’s looking for. He’s in a beautiful, modern style loft in the financial district that’s clearly well kept, surrounded by designer furniture that’s clean and spotless. The kitchen is organized, and it’s pretty clear that the loft belongs to someone from the Toronto Elite.Belonged to, he should say.





	The Smile of Your Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bidawee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bidawee/gifts).

> To my incredible beta for helping get this edited and finished at the last minute: thank you so much for all of your help!
> 
> To my recipient: I'm sorry this took so long to finish, but I hope it was worth the wait!

Auston Matthews observes the living room from where he stands, looking for any signs, any clues that can give him the answers he’s looking for. He’s in a beautiful, modern style loft in the financial district that’s clearly well kept, surrounded by designer furniture that’s clean and spotless. The kitchen is organized, and it’s pretty clear that the loft belongs to someone from the Toronto Elite.

Belonged to, he should say.

“Everything ok over here?” Auston asks Jack, his newest recruit that was appointed to him two months before by the Bureau. Jack’s usually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed demeanor had visibly dissipated the moment he walked through the bedroom door, and instead of an enthusiastic “Sure thing,” or “I’m great,” Jack is taking a deep breath and nodding curtly.

“Yeah, just—” Jack trails off and looks towards the top of the staircase to the second floor. “I just needed to help out the guys down here.” He discreetly gestures to the local Toronto PD cops looking around and investigating the living room and kitchen area. Auston doesn’t think any of these guys actually need an extra set of hands, but he’s not going to give Jack a hard time for walking away from the crime scene. Hell, Jack has been handling his cases very professionally so far, so Auston can let him take a breather this one time.

“Let me know if you find anything significant,” Auston suggests. Jack nods and gives Auston a ghost of a smile before walking into the kitchen to take a look around. Auston takes the stairs to the second level of the loft, and about halfway up, the rotten smell of death fills his nostrils. He has to pause and quietly cough in the collar of his sweater as he adjusts to the horrid scent.

“It’s only gonna get worse when you get in there.”

Auston looks up to see Matthew Tkachuk, his field partner, standing at the top of the steps, hands in his pants pockets and a glum expression on his face.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“How much worse?”

Matt checks over both of his shoulders before leaning in so his mouth is next to Auston’s ear.

“Marner’s number one fan got another one.”

Auston’s blood runs cold.

“Are you sure?” he whispers.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be telling you.”

Auston closes his eyes, tries to stop his brain from overworking and overthinking. It won’t do him any good to start letting his mind wander. He swallows and lets Matt lead the way into the master bedroom.

Auston has to stop in the doorway and collect his thoughts when he sees the victim’s body on the bed. He’s young, can’t be older than twenty-five. Strong, built like a lean athlete, brunette hair with a pretty face. Just like the first victim.

Auston isn’t thinking about the victim’s age or what his future possibly held, though. Not for long, anyway. He isn’t wondering about how the family is going to react when he tells them the horrific news about their son, husband, brother, whatever this young man might be to them. He’s not giving his mind a moment to hesitate and think about anything else except to process the crime scene at hand.

All Auston can focus on is the intricate knots tied around the victim’s wrists, ankles, and waist. Eagle spread on the bed. Tied with royal blue nylon rope. Throat slashed to the bone from ear to ear. Everything is so precise and familiar. It makes Auston’s stomach churn uneasily.

“I was hoping you would be wrong,” Auston confesses. Matt sighs and comes to stand next to Auston. They watch as the Crime Scene Unit keeps taking photos of the body, not missing a single inch of exposed skin. Auston knows that the person responsible isn’t Marner. But he’d be damned if he didn’t say that the signatures and the method were the exact same.

The scar on Auston’s throat tingles, almost as if it knows of the evil that took place here. He manages not to trace his fingers over it.

“Believe me,” Matt laments, “I wish I could’ve been wrong too.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how serial killers can have _ fans,” _Jack complains as he reads through Marner’s case file back at the Toronto Police Station that they have temporarily vacated. Auston sighs to himself. He reads over the “fan letters” that Auston believes the killer sent to Marner, trying to find any clues to help him move another step in the right direction.

“If there’s one sick psychopath, there’s several more admiring his work,” Matt informs Jack. “Most of these guys do what they do because they know they can. You’ll learn more as you go along.”

“This is just—so messed up,” Jack murmurs, not looking away from the photos of the newest victim laid out in front of him. Auston can tell that he’s thinking by the way he bites his lip. He flickers his eyes up to Auston. “Does this mean you’re gonna have to see Marner?”

Auston has been doing his best to avoid the possibility of having to interact with the narcissistic monster, but there’s been a second victim, and all the information the Toronto PD has given them isn’t helping. Auston, unfortunately, might not have any other choice.

Matt and Jack keep looking at Auston, waiting to see what decision he makes. Auston isn’t even sure what he should do. Either way he looks at it, he’s in a lose-lose situation. It’s either try to send someone else down to the prison to talk to Marner—and honestly, he would never subject even his worst enemy to that kind of horror—or go down there himself. Regardless of whoever has to talk to Marner, it’ll be like a prey looking their predator in the eye. No one will come out of that meeting unscathed.

Auston knows that look best. He knows how to read Marner; he’ll know if he’s bluffing or if he’s telling the truth. One thing Auston is certain about when it comes to Marner: the famed serial killer can’t lie to him.

Auston stands up and hooks his badge to his belt loop, puts his phone in his pants pocket, and puts the letter and the gruesome photos in a folder.

“You’re really gonna go,” Matt says. It’s not a question on if Auston is going to go, only of why.

“I know him best,” Auston replies. “He won’t he honest with anyone else. He’s our best link to catching the copycat.”

“You’re not going alone.”

“Well, you’re not going in there with me. I’m not about to let him fuck with your head like he did last time.”

“That was seven years ago, Aus.”

“And you’re still as much of a hothead now as you were back then.”

“That _ freak _almost killed you! How else was I supposed to react? You’re my partner! You’re my friend!”

“I can go.”

Auston and Matt snap their heads to Jack, who’s timidly looking up at both of them. His shoulders slouch a little at their now undivided attention.

“What did you just say?” Auston asks. Jack gulps.

“I mean—I want to go. If you’ll let me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“No. You don’t need to interact with Marner. You don’t know how he works. He’s going to fuck around with your mind if you go in there.”

“Well, I’m going to have to interact with people like him at some point. It’s not like I can avoid it. I’m a criminal profiler. It’s part of my job description to study guys like him. Might as well get it out of the way now instead of waiting.”

“He’s got a good point there, Aus,” Matt interjects before Auston can argue. “He’s only ever studied these guys, never actually met them or talked to them. If he’s going to be in this field, he’s going to have to learn to keep his emotions and temper at bay when interacting with these people. And he’s going to talk to them before long. Might as well talk to one that’s incarcerated in a max security prison instead of one in the field that could kill him on sight.”

Auston hates that Matt may be right. But he still doesn’t want Jack to talk to Marner. If anything, Marner will make sure Jack gets riled up and angry like Matt or fear his own shadow like he did to Hanifin during the trial. He can spot a weakness within a second of talking to someone, and he preys on it.

Jack is mentally so much stronger than most of the profilers Auston has worked with since becoming a profiler himself. But Jack is young and doesn’t understand what he’s getting himself into by going with Auston to see Marner. He’s seen brutal murders and has only watched killers walk by him in passing.

“This isn’t the same as listening to the Ted Bundy tapes or anything like that,” Auston warns. “Marner is a skilled manipulator. You can’t take anything he says at face value. Understand?”

Jack nods quickly, almost excitedly, as he also stands up and gets his stuff gathered. There’s only so much Auston can do to warn him and try to turn him away, and if Jack is still wanting to tag along with Auston to meet one of North America’s most vile serial killers, then so be it. He just hopes Jack doesn’t believe a word that comes out of Marner’s mouth.

“If anything happens,” Auston says to Matt, “any new leads or anything else happens—please let me know.”

“Always.”

Auston nods once to Matt and starts walking out the door, Jack following closely behind, when Matt gently grabs Auston’s elbow. Auston turns to look at Matt and is startled by how tense and worried Matt looks.

“Be careful.”

Auston takes a shaky breath through his nose.

“I will.”

The maximum security section of the Toronto South Detention Centre is just as eerily quiet as it was when Auston last came here seven years ago. No sounds except for the echoing footsteps up and down the hall and the hushed whispers of the guards. Auston’s skin crawls the further down the hall he walks. He can hear Jack’s breathing get gradually shallower the closer they get, and Auston has to stop when they’re almost in front of Marner’s cell.

“You don’t have to go in there,” Auston reminds Jack for the upteenth time. “You can just stand outside and wait for me.”

“No, I can do this,” Jack promises. “But I—I’ve only read about what this guy has done. I heard stories while I was in the Academy, and I had to do a paper on him while taking my certification classes to become a profiler. You were right: it’s one thing to read about someone, but it’s another thing to actually _ talk _to them, you know?” Jack exhales and shakes out his hands a little. “I just need a second.”

“Take your time,” Auston tells him. Jack huffs a laugh.

“How the fuck are you not shitting yourself right now?”

Auston is starting to wonder the same thing. He should be on the verge of an emotional breakdown just at the idea of coming face to face with Marner again. He has done his damnedest to make sure he never has to even think about Marner. Now, it’s as if the universe has decided that he hasn’t suffered enough—that he should dance with the devil one last time before he can be granted mercy.

“I’m going to let you guys get settled in here before I bring in Marner,” the Warden informs Auston. Auston feels a shiver run deep down his spine before finally nodding his head at the older gentleman. The Warden nods his head once and unlocks the door with his key. He opens the door halfway, stepping to the side to let Auston and Jack walk in first. Auston can feel his heart crawling up his throat as he walks into the room, Jack following close behind. The room is simple, everything a shade of sterilized white. From the floor to the ceiling, everything is made to look bland and even a little deceitful. This place still gives Auston the fucking creeps, and he thinks it always will.

Two prison guards stand outside on either side of the door when the warden leaves to retrieve Marner. Auston rubs his sweaty palms against his thighs. Jack exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a long time.

“So now what?” Jack asks. “We just wait?”

“Yep,” Auston mumbles as he lays the folder on the metal table. He keeps his eyes trained on the handcuffs bolted into the table. They’re not close enough to where the prisoner chained down can reach out and touch the person on the other side.

Auston scoots back his chair a little, anyway.

“Ignore anything he says to you,” Auston advises Jack. “He’s good at getting under people’s skin, so you need to be ready for him to try and talk to you. Don’t talk back. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Auston can see how nervous Jack looks, notices how the younger man’s fingers tap restlessly against the corner of the table. His knee quietly bounces, just narrowly missing the table every time. His breathing is back to normal, but his eyes continue to dart around the room, never staring at one thing for too long.

If Auston notices these little things, Marner will, too.

“Breathe, Jack,” Auston reminds him. Jack’s eyes snap to him. “He feeds off of fear. Don’t give him any signs that you’re nervous. Keep your eyes in one place and don’t let your leg bounce too much.”

Jack nods, takes a deep breath and manages to stop his leg from moving.

The door opens.

Auston rolls his broad shoulders back, staring straight ahead so that he doesn’t watch the guards bring in the prisoner. Chains scrape the floor and jangle as they move in the air. Wrists and ankles both contained in metal cuffs too thick to break.

Auston can feel those eyes watching him. He doesn’t take the bait. When he finally sees Marner, though, it’s when the other man is finally seated in his chair across from Auston.

Auston has perfected his poker face over the years. He’s one of the best profilers to ever step foot in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and he has looked evil in the face too many times to count. But nothing—not a fucking thing will ever compare to having to come face to face with Mitch Marner again.

Mitch looks almost the exact same as he did when he and Auston first met. Cropped brunette hair, boyish face that’s slimmed down with time, sparkling blue eyes, and a grin that made him so easy to follow. Auston blocks out the memory of their first meeting, of everything they were before Auston learned the truth. Of simpler, happier times.

That smile that once made him feel warm just serves as a reminder that the Devil is real. He exists. And Auston is looking right at him.

The guards place Mitch’s wrists in the cuffs bolted to the table, tightening them until Mitch flinches just the slightest. No mercy for the wicked, Auston figures. The guards leave as soon as Mitch is secured in place with no way to escape, but they don’t wander far. Auston can see their shadows through the crack between the door and the floor out of the corner of his eye.

Auston and Mitch stare at each other, Mitch smiling while Auston scowls. Mitch sighs loudly.

“Hi, Auston.”

His voice sounds raspier, deeper, seductive in a way that would’ve had Auston offering to buy him a drink at a bar, maybe even ask Mitch if he wants to go back to his place to fuck. Auston forgot how smooth of a talker Mitch is.

“What?” Mitch taunts. “You’re not gonna say hi back? Ask me how I’m doing? How I’m liking prison?”

Auston doesn’t reply.

“How about I ask you some questions, then?” Mitch leans in, resting his elbows on the table and giving Auston that little smile he used to always give him back in the day. Auston’s heart palpitates for a different reason now. “How are you? You look good, by the way. The scar doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would.”

Auston keeps his gaze fixed firmly on Mitch, resists the urge to reach up and touch the scar on his neck. It has healed fairly well, even though the surgeons told him it would be horrendously ugly and thick. He’s thankful Mitch can’t brag about the damage he left behind. Not the physical damage, anyway.

Auston still has a padlock to his knife drawer in his house.

“You seeing anybody?” Mitch asks. “You’re a fucking catch. Or are you just fucking the young guys at your work like pretty boy over here?”

There’s still no reply from Auston, but Jack just barely stiffens in his seat, and it’s enough for Mitch to notice. The killer scoffs.

“How fucking old is this kid, anyway?” Mitch asks Auston. “He can’t be older than eighteen. No fucking way.”

“I’m twenty-four,” Jack corrects. Auston mentally swears to himself as he watches Mitch smirk and raise a brow at Jack.

“At least one of you can talk. What’s your name, kid?” Jack hesitates, causing Mitch’s smile to falter. “C’mon, I know you’ve got a name. Everyone’s got one. Here, I’ll introduce myself properly.” Mitch sits up straight and holds out his hand as much as he can with the cuffs on. “Hi, I’m Mitch. What’s your name?”

“He’s not here for a social call,” Auston finally says. “And neither am I.” Mitch turns his gaze to Auston.

“Then what are you here for, baby?”

Auston opens up the folder and lays out the photos of the two victims of the copycat killer that Auston and his team have found thus far.

“We know,” Auston explains, “that someone has been copying your methods of kidnapping, torturing, and killing young men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five. The only reason I know it’s a copycat and not actually you is because you’re in here. But I think you know who the unsub might be.”

“Is that right?” Mitch murmurs as he studies the photos. He gingerly touches the edges of each photograph, studying them as if they’re precious jewels.

“The unsub is clearly a fan of your work.”

“I see that. The knots are a little sloppy, and the cut on the throat looks jagged. But with practice and a better knife, they could be a real natural.”

Jack’s sharp inhale catches Mitch’s attention. Auston does his best to play it cool, but he knows that Mitch is studying Jack. He’s trying to find ways to make Jack tick, make him snap and talk to Mitch some more.

“We’ve read through every letter and gone through every note given to us by Toronto PD,” Auston says, trying to get Mitch’s attention back on him. Better himself than Jack. “But it’s never been anything concrete. But I’m pretty sure you have an idea as to who the killer might be.”

“And you want me to—what? Stop them?” Mitch laughs, and the hair on the back of Auston’s neck stands up. “Why would I do that?”

“These are innocent people being murdered,” Jack snaps. Auston’s jaw clenches. He wants to speak, but he keeps his words to himself. “And obviously the unsub wants you to notice them.”

“I notice them,” Mitch promises, his voice all velvety and soft. “I always notice my biggest fans.”

“So do you know who the unsub might be?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then give us a name.” Mitch smirks and leans toward Jack, tilting his head side to side, studying him. Auston clenches and unclenches his fists under the table. Mitch looks back at the pictures, looks at them for a moment, looks back up. Jack’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down, watching Mitch watch him.

“You know—” Auston hates how Mitch can talk so casually, like he and Jack are friends. “I keep looking at these victims and then at you. And I can’t help but notice something.” Mitch picks up the headshot photo of the first victim from the crime scene—a twenty year-old undergrad student named Jesse—and holds it up so that the photo is side by side with Jack’s face.

Auston wants to hurl.

“You and these boys look exactly alike.”

“Mitch—” Auston tries to interject.

“Same physique. Same hairstyle and hair color. Nice, long neck.”

“That’s enough.” Mitch bites his lip and grins.

“Bet you’d look pretty tied up like them. The blue would be a good color against your skin. I wish I could be the one to have you, but maybe my _ biggest fan, _ as you both say, will do the job just fine in my place.”

Auston rises to his feet, causing the chair behind him to clatter loudly against the floor. Mitch barely moves, but Jack startles at the sound and stands as well. Mitch chuckles darkly, never taking his eyes off of Jack.

“This interview is over,” Auston growls as he gathers up his photos and hastily puts them back in the folder. He takes two steps to the door and knocks on it to be let out.

“Good luck finding your unsub,” Mitch says. “You might wanna catch them before they get your pretty boy over here.”

Auston whirls around doesn’t even think when he grabs the collar of Mitch’s white prison jumpsuit and moves in close until he and Mitch are nose to nose with each other.

“I know that you know more than you’re telling me,” Auston snarls. “And I’m gonna get the truth out of you one way or another.”

“You wanna visit me again?” Mitch purrs. “Mmm, just like old times. Bring Pretty Boy with you next time, too. He’s nice to look at. Bet his throat would look better after a knife has cut it open.”

Auston hoists Mitch out of the chair and halfway over the table, but that’s all he’s able to do before he’s being pulled off by the prison guards. They pull him back and try to escort him out of the room, but he shakes them both off and tries to collect himself in the doorway. He sees the fear breaking through the neutral facade on Jack’s face when he looks up to check on his young team member. He turns to glare at Mitch, who’s simply grinning and laughing lowly while looking back at him.

“You getting scared, Aus?” he taunts. “Getting nervous?”

When Auston doesn’t reply, Mitch’s face goes dark.

“You should be.”

Mitch grins sweetly at Jack, who’s trying to look stoic but whose hands are trembling.

“Lock your doors, Pretty Boy,” he warns. “You might be next.”

Auston storms out of the room, and Jack is hot on his tail. The guards close the door so that they’re left inside the interview room with Mitch. The Warden tries to talk to Auston and Jack, but the blood pumping through Auston’s ears makes it hard to hear anything other than his erratic heartbeat.

The adrenaline of what just transpired lasts all the way to when the two men are sitting in the car. Auston slams his door and stares at the steering wheel. Jack is much more tentative as he sits in the passenger seat, startles when Auston slams his fists into the steering wheel.

“Auston, stop!” Jack yells as he reaches over and tries to hold Auston’s hands back from the steering wheel. “You’re gonna fucking break something, chill out!”

“How can I chill out?!” Auston shouts back. “I told you not to say a fucking word to him, and you went against my direct orders!”

“What else was I supposed to do? Just sit there and look pretty? I’m an investigator! I’m supposed to hunt people like him down for a living! I signed up for this! I knew what was at stake when I joined the team!”

_ “You don’t know shit, Jack!” _

Jack snaps his mouth shut and cowers a little in his seat. Auston would feel bad, but he needs Jack to listen and to understand.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with! Mitch Marner is evil! Pure evil, Jack! He preys on people’s weaknesses and gets under their fucking skin! He’s a fucking monster, and he will do anything and everything to hurt you! Even if he physically can’t do it himself! Hell, he’s even got one of his little fans out there going around killing people for sport, and you fit the fucking profile for them!

“I know Mitch better than I know anyone else! I know how he works, and I know _ exactly _ what he’s capable of! You will _ never _understand demons like him! No essay or research project will ever prepare you for what you end up seeing! Your professors don’t prepare you for being the very thing these killers fixate on! They don’t warn you about the paranoia you have to live with for the rest of your fucking life! How you have to change your locks all the time so no one breaks in! They don’t tell about the nightmares and the therapy sessions and the horrible shit you have to see!

“No one will tell you that the real monsters could be the very people you think you know best but never really knew at all! _ I lived through that! _And I don’t want you to have to go through the same fucking thing I did!”

Auston’s chest heaves up and down when he finishes yelling. His whole body is still buzzing with all this pent up anger and rage and adrenaline but starts to deflate when he sees how scared Jack looks. He sighs and rubs his hands up and down his face.

“Jack, look,” he says, his voice much calmer and quieter than before, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Aus, i-it’s ok—”

“No, it’s not ok. I know you’re scared, and you have every right to be.”

Jack doesn’t say anything. He just stares at his twiddling thumbs in his lap. Auston sighs and puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack jumps a little but still looks up at Auston.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Auston promises. “Matt and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Jack interjects. Auston knows that. He knows it, and he hates it.

“Then I’m gonna do the best that I can to keep you safe. You believe me when I tell you that?” For the first time since interacting with Mitch, Jack looks just a little hopeful.

“Yeah,” the brunette replies. “Yeah, I believe you.”

“Good.”

Auston buckles his seatbelt, and Jack follows suit. As soon as Auston gets the car started and they pull out of the prison’s parking lot, Jack starts to visibly relax. Auston wishes he could, but he really needs to go to the gym.

“Wanna go work out with Matt later?” he asks. “Pretty sure we could all use a good workout after all of this. Besides, we need to get some more muscle on you, man. You’re a fucking shrimp.”

Jack cracks a small smile at that.

“I might look small, but I could take you down with one arm tied behind my back.”

“Wanna bet on that?”

“Fuck yeah. I could take your ass out.”

Auston smirks as he gets on the interstate.

“We’ll see about that, rookie.”


End file.
